


Double Trouble

by oly_chic



Series: Prowl x Jazz Community 2020 Annual Challenge [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sex Pollen, Some Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Trapped, but with gas chemicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oly_chic/pseuds/oly_chic
Summary: When Jazz met Prowl, he hoped for a good time. What he didn’t expect was a very good time in the most unlikely of circumstances.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Prowl x Jazz Community 2020 Annual Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929142
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70
Collections: ProwlxJazz Anniversary 2020





	Double Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Transformers.
> 
> This is for the P/J 2020 challenge from the Dreamwidth community. Prompts are taken from a bingo card row.
> 
> Prompt: “Peril-Induced Sex”

The lounge singer took a seat at the unfamiliar bar as soon as it was vacated. Normally Jazz would make small talk with someone while he waited and get a feel for his potential neighbors, but this time he hung back and quietly waited for a seat in the low ambient lighting. Not only was it a new bar to him but there wasn’t a patron he recognized, and that was what he wanted. He didn’t want fans coming up to him right now, and so he went the opposite direction from his apartment than he normally traveled until he found a bar that didn’t look too seedy for his mood. At least the drinks were good if one drank from a high shelf.

His mood wasn’t entirely sour, but he wasn’t in the best of spirits, either. His request for a pay raise was denied, on grounds that his tips were getting better. He was paid minimum wage for a role that kept the patrons around, kept them drinking. Was it so much to ask for a better cut of the extra profits he earned for them?

The spiraling thoughts in his helm about his worth and whether it was time to move on became so distracting he nearly missed the conversation someone started. “Hey, good looking.”

_How cheesy_ , Jazz thought. He turned to look at a mech with a Kaonite built frame, painted in several shades of blue. The Kaonite continued, “What’s a decent mech like yourself doing in a place like this?”

Jazz couldn’t tell if he should laugh or frown at the continuing overplayed lines. Instead he flashed a tight and uninviting smile. “You seem swell and all, but no thanks. I’m not feeling friendly, if you know what I mean.”

The stranger leaned on the bar countertop. “Something got you down? I can get you up.”

Time to be more direct. “Did you not hear the ‘get lost’ when I said that? If not, let me be more direct: get lost. I’m in no mood for games.”

Again, the stranger pressed forward, this time raising a finger to run it along Jazz’s arm. As soon as Jazz deciphered his intent, the singer jerked his arm back and put his hand up in a defensive gesture. “Serious? What kind of ‘no’ do you need to get out of my space? A drink to the face? ‘Cause I will, even if it means losing one fine drink like this.”

“Oh, come on now, don’t tease. We both know pretty ones like you come here for – ”

“Excuse me, sir,” a stern voice cut in from behind Jazz. He couldn’t take his optics off the stranger in front of him to see the new arrival, but he let the voice continue. “He said no, and he’s said it very directly. Now leave or I will escort you off the premises.”

The rude stranger put his hands up and got off the bar to back off. He sneered, “Leave it up to an Enforcer to use their power to spike-block you.” His optics hardened at Jazz and then at the one behind Jazz. He left while smacking into another patron with his shoulder.

As he stomped away Jazz was dealing with his own surprise at hearing the word “Enforcer.” Free of the potential threat, he rotated around in his seat so he could look at his rescuer. In front of him was one of the most beautiful Enforcers he had seen, even with his paint job in mostly classic Enforcer colors. The black and white shined in the dim lighting, the red chevron a vibrant hue, the sensory panels held up gracefully high, and his cool blue optics watching the bad mech leave held an authority to them that almost got Jazz’s engine running. He had to be careful that his bratty authority kink didn’t come out.

“Thanks,” he managed to get out with only a relieved tone and not a purr.

Those seductive optics finally looked to Jazz. “You are welcome, Jazz. I’m sorry to ruin your night.”

Jazz’s optics shot up underneath his visor. “You know my name?”

In a hushed tone, the Enforcer replied, “I know of you through your work. I’ve seen you from time to time. I meant to leave you alone, figuring you were here for some anonymity.”

Jazz searched his memory for the mech in front of him, and soon after the new stranger’s words about his work he was able to place him. It took him a klik, just long enough for the other to start turning away. “Wait! I do know you. I’ve seen you sometimes, too, like at the Swinging in the Wind event back at my, ah, workplace.”

The stranger turned back and arched an optic ridge. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember me.”

He offered a friendly grin. “Can never forget a pretty face. Just didn’t come to me with me being so out of place. Anyway, you saved my night instead of ruining it. Care to give me a name and let me buy you the rest of your drinks?”

A small, almost awkward smile crossed the other’s face. “My name is Prowl. I usually only have one drink every deca-orn, and I just had mine.”

He already knew from Prowl’s body language that buying Prowl the rest of his drinks wouldn’t be a huge expense. Hearing him say he already bought his one meant some effort was needed just to get him to have one more. “Please? I owe you a favor, and unless you take special attention the next time I’m singing as payment, then share a drink with me.”

He swore his new friend had a slight blush. “I would prefer an extra drink over extra attention.”

“Good, because one-on-one attention is my favorite, a favorite over singling someone out in a crowd. Take a seat.”

At some point the seat next to Jazz and Prowl had been vacated, maybe when the encounter between the singer and the rude mech had become a bit much. Prowl took it and looked over the options as Jazz hailed the bartender over.

Jazz asked, “What do you want?”

Prowl gave him the name of a drink, but Jazz knew of it and shook his helm. “Nah, that’s like taking a swig of sewer waste compared to what I’m drinking. You need to try this.”

“I suppose I can trust a lounge singer to know better than me.” The voice was calm, but Jazz detected a hint of shyness to it. How sweet, a shy Enforcer.

When the drank came a breem later in a fancy glass like Jazz’s, Prowl slowly sipped it. “This is better,” he murmured. “I hope it isn’t costly.”

“Nothing to fret about,” Jazz waved off. “Now, what was that you were saying about your work with newbies? It must be a lot to be the shining example to fresh energon, but I bet you pull it off.” With the way Prowl suddenly focused on his drink, Jazz knew flattery would get him far.

After Jazz’s fourth drink, he found himself a little unsteady. He wasn’t intending to have more than two when he first got here, but he wanted to spend time with Prowl, and Jazz had two more during the same time it took Prowl to finish his one.

Prowl tentatively reached out and lightly brushed Jazz’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should walk you home.”

Jazz alluringly smiled. “We?”

The Enforcer’s hand froze. “I mean that I would like to escort you safely home.”

“Ah, well that’s good too. Spend some more time getting to know my favorite Enforcer.”

“Because someone like you would know so many,” Prowl dryly chuckled.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jazz smirked as he got off his seat.

Prowl escorted him, a hand holding Jazz steady by his shoulder as he kept pace. Truthfully, Jazz wasn’t so drunk he needed the assistance, but it was fun to pretend because it seemed to be the only way to get the modest mech to touch him.

They chatted and walked about three breems when Jazz realized they had taken a wrong turn somewhere. “Slag,” he cursed.

“What?” Prowl asked, alarmed.

“I think I made a wrong turn. Hang on, I think if we go down this alley it’ll get us back on track.”

Prowl’s gaze turned from Jazz to look where the singer was looking. “You mean that long alley that looks abandoned?”

“Hey, what’s life without random, mysterious alleys to wander through?”

“Safer,” Prowl replied, but he sighed and led Jazz down the alleyway.

They were almost halfway down when there was a sound of a bottle being kicked behind them. Prowl instantly turned and Jazz struggled to do the same. They had been followed by the blue Kaonite mech, and what looked to be three very large friends.

The Kaonite scowled. “This is as good of a spot as any. Let them know I won’t be played like that.”

“Mech, we don’t even know who you are,” Jazz snipped. “Get lost before all of the Enforcers rake you over coals for trying to hurt one of their own. Not to mention I’ll blackball you to every club and bar in the city.”

Prowl reached over and softly squeezed Jazz’s arm, but he spoke to the four intruders. “Leave us and I won’t shoot you.”

“We’re miners from Kaon; our armor is strong enough for the pathetic toys you Enforcers call weapons.”

Prowl started reaching into his subspace but was stopped when all four rushed at them, forcing him to instead take a defensive stance between Jazz and the attackers. Jazz realized it was time to stop faking being completely inebriated and show what fighting moves he had learned.

All six of them fought, but Jazz was losing while Prowl was not fairing too well as he dealt with his and Jazz’s attackers. They were driven back, and a glancing punch to Jazz’s face redirected his vision to a busted door behind them. “Door!” he yelled.

Prowl saw the door and grabbed Jazz, backing away and defending them at the same time as they fled through the door and down narrow steps. Jazz thought it would force the fight to be more one-on-one as he stumbled down into an underground hallway with poor lighting.

Prowl must have thought the same because he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, standing between them and Jazz in a fighting pose. They didn’t follow them, but instead the blue mech started derisively laughing.

“You’re idiots,” he laughed. “Power Punch, destroy the doorway and bury them.”

Prowl pulled out his gun, but in the time it took for him to do so, one of the big mechs started punching the doorway with booming blows. The Enforcer took aim and made a shot, but it was too late; the doorway and surrounding walls came crashing down.

Prowl pushed Jazz out of the way and brought him down to his knees, shielding him the entire time. When the last pebble tumbled to the floor and no more noise could be heard, Prowl gingerly helped Jazz up. They looked at the wall of debris in front of them. Jazz whistled, “We’re screwed.”

“I do have comms to other Enforcers in this precinct,” Prowl coolly said. “We’ll be fine so long as you aren’t claustrophobic.”

“Nope, used to tight spots.”

“From your tone I gather you mean both literally and figurative.”

“Oh, so much yes.”

Jazz swore Prowl softly smiled but it was short-lived. In fact, any hints of a smile died fast when a klik later Prowl was frowning. “It appears my comms are being blocked.”

“Say what now?”

“My comms can’t reach anyone. I suspect this building is shielded.”

Jazz stared. “Why would a building that’s basically condemned and in the middle of nowhere have shielding?”

“It’s that or our attackers turned on a jammer, which I find far less plausible. Especially since I can tell jammed comms from blocked comms.”

He joined in the frowning. “Okay, so now what?”

Prowl gazed down the hallway and turned on his headlights. They could see doors down the hallway before the light disappeared into darkness. “It seems this hallway is long, but also there’s at least two doors for us to explore.”

“I do love exploring, although usually in a lighter sense,” Jazz mused.

“I don’t doubt that,” Prowl said as he started to guide Jazz. “By-the-way, you fight better than you walk.”

“Looks like I’m caught,” Jazz chuckled as he leaned into Prowl’s hand, who he noticed didn’t remove it.

The first door didn’t budge open, but the lock was visible. Jazz suggested, “Shoot it.”

Prowl raised his gun and fired acid pellets at the lock. It left pockmarks all over the lock but didn’t do more than superficial damage. The Enforcer frowned while Jazz chewed his lip. “Uh, try the other lock?”

The same happened at the other door. The singer’s concern was growing fast. “What the Pit?”

Prowl briefly hummed. “Interesting. Tamper resistant locks. Highly effective ones at that.”

“Where are we? This has to be more than some dumb old building.”

“I don’t precisely know.”

Jazz tilted his helm and looked at the side of Prowl’s face as the Enforcer’s attention remained on the door. “What’s that mean?”

“I have a theory but it’s only that.”

“Well, spill! A theory is better than me wondering around all confused.”

“These locks and this level of shielding suggests military compound, and one meant for secrecy.”

He groaned. “What’s a creepy, abandoned secret military place doing out here?”

“As I said, it is only a theory. It could be a very high-end company’s research building that they left behind when they relocated.”

Jazz chewed on his lip again. “Odds of that?”

“Let’s just say low and keep testing doors. It’s possible there’s one we can open, or the lock is already broken.”

They kept walking and testing doors. After their fourth door the lighting improved, and Prowl turned off his headlights. Jazz thought things were beginning to get better, until he started to feel funny. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, other than it made his engine nearly purr and his tank feel like it was turning. He wasn’t nauseated, but he wasn’t feeling normal. “Drinks must have a second wave,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Something’s wrong. It’s okay though, I just feel a bit funny. Nothing freaky.” Actually, the slow burn in his neuro-net circuits was a bit freaky but he found himself not caring.

Prowl paused and moved his sensory panels around him. “Hm, there appears to be a breeze. Perhaps there is a way out ahead. Let’s press on and get help.”

Jazz thought Prowl meant help from their predicament, but he noticed Prowl moving stiffly and now pressing the wall away from Jazz as they walked. He straightened out and felt a strong need to hear Prowl’s voice. “What’s the matter?”

“Besides being trapped?” Prowl sounded distracted.

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Never mind that. Let’s hurry, the breeze is getting stronger.”

Jazz’s sensory horns was picking it up too. “Yeah, feels funny, though. Like it’s moving pretty slow. Like heavy air.”

Prowl stopped. “You’re right, it is too heavy to be a breeze coming from outside.”

Before he could stop himself, he licked his lips as he looked at Prowl. “Yeah, heavy. Tastes funny, too.”

“We should turn back.”

“For what? Nothing behind us. I say shoot that door in front of us or shoot the wall. It’s got a large crack.”

Was it just Jazz or was Prowl’s optics a little hazy? Regardless, his companion nodded. “I’ll shoot the crack. We need to get out of this hallway.”

Prowl lined up the shot and blasted the crack by the doorframe. The wall partly crumbled, and immediately they were blasted by an invisible gas. As they were sprayed Jazz realized they had found the source of the heavy breeze and just made it worse.

After a few kliks of blasting them with the unknown substance it subsided. Jazz looked at Prowl, who wavered as he looked back at Jazz. That burning sensation in Jazz’s neuro-net circuits was full burn now. It was almost distracting, with most of the source of his distraction coming from his interface array.

They stared at each other and Jazz watched Prowl’s optics darken as his mouth slightly parted. Suddenly his thumb was there, lightly rubbing Prowl’s lower lip. The Praxian’s lips closed around Jazz’s thumb and his tongue started to play with Jazz.

He was mesmerized by the feel of Prowl’s mouth when his new friend pushed aside Jazz’s thumb only to wrap his arms around the singer so he could pull him into a searing kiss. They kissed and Jazz fumbled getting his hands free and around Prowl’s neck. Their kiss continued, slowing only when Jazz nipped Prowl’s lower lip and the Enforcer moaned.

He took the sound as encouragement and licked his lip, but Jazz’s energy levels were so high, his need burning so hot, that he couldn’t keep kissing. Apparently neither could Prowl, who’s hands worked their way up his body to caress Jazz’s sensory horns as his mouth trailed along Jazz’s jaw.

Jazz moaned but wasn’t about to be undone without bringing Prowl with him. He moved his arms away from Prowl’s neck and caressed the top of his sensory panels. Prowl whined and the panels arched into Jazz’s touch. He slipped his hands down the front of the panels, toying with the seams as he moved.

Prowl’s touch faltered, but only for a moment before he resumed caressing Jazz. One hand moved to Jazz’s chin while the other moved to the back of Jazz’s helm. He guided Jazz into another hot kiss, his voice becoming raspy gasps the entire time as Jazz kept toying with him.

The hand on the back of Jazz’s helm slipped down to his back and Prowl guided Jazz to the floor. Jazz didn’t care it was dirty, he wanted Prowl however he could have him. He reached up and tweaked Prowl’s chevron and that earned him an engine rev. Prowl nearly collapsed on top of him, but he caught himself so he only hovered over Jazz’s frame.

As soon as Prowl’s engine calmed, he palmed Jazz’s valve cover. “Open,” he panted.

Jazz’s valve cover opened, and he groaned, “See if you can make me yours.” There was a possibility his bratty authority kink might come out if he didn’t watch it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to watch it. He just wanted to be fragged and based on the slickness he felt inside his valve he knew he could be fragged now.

He felt Prowl’s fingers trace the outside of his valve and then one plunged in and touched his walls. His calipers tried grasping the finger.

Prowl hummed and then chuckled right into Jazz’s sensory horn, and the vibration of his voice had Jazz moaning. With a demur voice he said, “So wet, but so tight.” He rubbed Jazz’s anterior node. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you soon.”

Jazz grinded against Prowl’s thumb on his node. “Not soon enough.”

Prowl rubbed his rim and instead of replying he pushed the finger back in and started pumping it in and out. Jazz heard the noise of an interface panel retracting but couldn’t see as Prowl was kneeling over him, one arm by Jazz’s helm and the other one preoccupied. He could guess, though. “When’s that spike gonna frag me?”

“As soon as this – ” suddenly two fingers entered Jazz and thrust hard inside of him, “ – isn’t so tight I might hurt you.”

“I want you. Now,” Jazz whined in between sobs. He writhed as Prowl’s thrusts picked up speed.

“I suppose that’s good enough,” Prowl groaned, and he pulled his body back. As he moved Jazz caught sight of a spike, a little large for a standard-size mech and red biolights glistening along with dripping transfluid. Jazz really wanted that spike in him, but he also really wanted to taste Prowl.

He decided as bad as he wanted to be fragged, he wouldn’t be such a selfish lover. “Bring that spike here and let me make it slick.”

Once more Prowl’s engine revved and he helped Jazz up into a sitting position so Prowl could stand on his knees over Jazz’s lap. Jazz swirled his tongue around the tip of Prowl’s spike and then sucked it down into his intake, making sure the whole length was enveloped into his mouth. Prowl gasped and Jazz began bobbing at a fast pace, focusing on the fun of sucking a spike instead of his calipers begging to grasp something large.

He went as long as he could, until the burning sensation in his valve overpowered him. He licked Prowl’s spike hard as he pulled away and groaned, “Now I really need you to frag me.”

Prowl growled and pushed Jazz down. He lined himself up and grabbed Jazz by the thighs before diving into Jazz at a pace that would have been too fast if they weren’t both so slick and hungry to feel each other. To his credit, Jazz could feel Prowl trying to start off slow but soon he couldn’t and moved hard and fast into Jazz.

Jazz’s circuits were singing, and he thought he would never overload because as hot as he was running. Then, as he was about to snap at his cursed fate to be so hot yet unsatisfied, the overload hit him hard and fast. He barely felt Prowl hit his overload, hearing the roar more than feeling it as he blacked out.

Jazz came back online as he felt Prowl rutting against his thigh, even though Prowl was lying on top of him. He was okay with that because he needed more. He wasn’t even slightly done yet. “Frag me more,” he said as he reached down to grasp Prowl’s still-pressurized spike.

His hand work on Prowl’s spike was speeding up just as they heard a distant explosion. They both came to a slow stop, groaning hard as they looked down the path from which they came, feeling a breeze again. This time it felt lighter and the heaviness in the air began to clear away.

Jazz blinked and suddenly his helm felt a little sharper. He wanted to keep going, but it wasn’t as consuming. The feeling was confusing, but Prowl scrambled up and hissed as his spike was forcefully depressurized. Jazz closed his valve cover, his array still aching for more fulfillment. Prowl pulled him up and they moved towards the sounds of voices calling for Prowl.

Jazz tried not to let his walk give away his soreness. As his helm cleared and the soreness became more apparent to him, a sudden thought hit him: Prowl and he were filthy around their interface panels. “Stop,” he called out as he pulled on Prowl.

Prowl looked at him with alarm. Jazz explained, “Whoever that is, we still need to clean up. Please tell me you have something.”

Prowl looked them over and immediately became embarrassed. “I have a cleaning rag,” he stumbled as he pulled it out and hurriedly wiped himself down and then handed it to Jazz. The singer quickly wiped himself down as well, enough to pass in the night so long as no one smelled him too close, and handed the rag back. He noticed Prowl wasn’t looking at him anymore. He couldn’t blame him; Jazz felt a little awkward the more his helm cleared.

Enforcers greeted Prowl as soon as they were in sight of Prowl’s headlights. “Prowl!” someone Jazz didn’t recognize called.

“Bluestreak, how did you find us?”

“Got a buzz from you and when you didn’t respond, we traced the signal to this area. Found this caved in door and figured you were stuck here. What happened?”

“We were attacked and forced to take refuge in here. Our attackers caved in the door.”

Bluestreak nodded. “Ah. Well, we’ve got an ambulance transport here in case you and your, uh, friend need it.”

Bluestreak helped Prowl and Jazz up the stairs, and together they were led to an ambulance with an EMT waiting nearby. They were checked over, and Jazz could see Prowl was embarrassed while trying to hide what they had done. If the EMT noticed he didn’t say anything before handing them cooling blankets to wrap around themselves.

Jazz glanced at Prowl, who was doggedly staring at the ground. He could understand Prowl’s feelings, and he suspected they were even worse for the stoic Enforcer he had met only two joors ago. Seeing Prowl’s face slowly fall into despair, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He nudged Prowl over and over until the Enforcer brought his optics to Jazz’s general area.

“I had a good time with you at the bar and the walk home,” Jazz good-naturedly started, doing his best to act as if nothing unusual had happen.

Prowl nodded but remained silent.

“No, really,” Jazz insisted. “Don’t think for a breem I’m going to worry about anything other than not seeing your pretty face grace my lounge again. We had a good time, all things considered. You do consider our time at the bar good, right?”

Prowl looked up to Jazz, his expression hesitant. “I did,” he quietly answered.

Jazz flashed his friendliest smile. “Good. So don’t be a stranger, ‘kay?”

Prowl’s optics flickered away and then back to Jazz. “Alright.”

He didn’t know what else to say, so they stayed like that with their optics wondering around them until a red Enforcer approached. Prowl cleared his vocalizer as the red mech joined and said, “Thank you, Ironhide, for helping us.”

Ironhide dismissed it with a shake of his helm. “Don’t worry about it. As soon as they told me where they thought they found you trapped, I practically flew over here. You know what this place is?”

“I theorized it was a military facility.”

“Oh yeah, an old one with lots of secrets. They had to clear it after a contamination spill with some gas on the lower levels.” Ironhide looked them over and Jazz was glad for the cooling blankets hiding their arrays.

“Gas? What kind of gas?” Prowl asked.

Ironhide shrugged. “Something about a gas that makes a subject go into a killing rage.”

“I see. Well, as you may have noticed, we are not in a killing rage.”

The red Enforcer nodded. “I see. There’s always the other thing it does but doesn’t look like that happened.”

Jazz cocked his helm and asked a split-klik before Prowl, “What other thing?”

“Something about mixing with high grade already in a subject’s system. Makes them feel amorous instead of murderous, if you will.” Ironhide chuckled. “But like I said, doesn’t look like that happened.”

“No,” Prowl immediately assured.

“Right. Well, I’m going to check in on the others to make sure no one else risks getting involved with that stuff.”

When they were alone Prowl ex-vented. “It seems what happened between us was quite manufactured.”

“Only the end,” Jazz argued. “I, for one, still want to see you more. That’s not manufactured.”

“Are you sure?” Prowl looked at him and Jazz could feel uncertainty permeating from him.

“Absolutely. Don’t you?”

“… Yes, I would. I need to redeem myself in the optics of someone I can appreciate holding a good conversation with.”

“Don’t worry about that. When you’re ready, I’m looking forward to an encore,” Jazz grinned. Prowl’s only reaction was to lightly groan and pinch the bridge of his nose. Jazz was going to enjoy the time it took to get to their encore.


End file.
